Lost and Found
by JT Estes Gabert
Summary: Eleven year old Catalina Montez disappears mysteriously after the death of her parents in a house fire the Denver Fire Department says was arson. It's up to Ed Brown and his wife Fran to find Catalina before an old foe from the Brown's San Francisco past finds her first.
1. Chapter 1

**Catalina**

Catalina Montez watched with excitement as the familiar gray Dodge Durango emblazoned with the words _**Denver Police**_ pulled up by the basketball courts. Her teacher reminded all her students that this afternoon was the day Chief Brown would be coming to Cesar Chavez to play basketball at the park with some of his officers and any student who wanted to play, could. The Denver Chief of Police wasn't like any other police she knew. _El Jefe_, the kids called him, Chief Brown, he was different. He was interested in them, their families, how they did in school, and what was going on in their neighborhood. He cared.

Ed Brown got out from the passenger side of the car. From the driver's side, his aide Sergeant Jerry Abbey, did the same. Both Ed and Jerry wore Cesar Chavez Eagles T Shirts, dark brown with a gold Eagle with red and green wing feathers, its head facing out determinedly on the world, blue jeans and sneakers. They greeted the kids with smiles and high fives. From the back of the Durango, Abbey brought out bags full of balls and books and Denver Police souvenirs. Taking one of the balls out, he called to one of the boys; "Hey Juanito, m'man, think fast". Juanito grabbed the thrown ball and ran for the court, dribbling at full speed trailed by his friends. Chief Brown and Jerry corralled the stragglers and walked them to the court, Catalina walked behind them. She was tall and gangly for her age but she wasn't good at sports and at eleven years old, she knew she liked books, but there weren't many in her home. She was hoping that _el Jefe_ or Jerry would see her and remember she was the one who liked books and stories. But she doubted it. There were so many schools and she never played ball.

Catalina found a place to sit up in the top of the bleachers above the court where she could watch her friends play Jerry and the Chief. Soon they were joined by other young officers and all the courts were full of kids playing cops. She liked to watch the game, and would cheer good plays. Today though, she wanted to do something else. Opening her notebook, she began to draw. Her dream was to tell stories and make the pictures that went with them and sell them. A writer is what her teacher called it. Catalina's story would be one her Navajo grandmother used to tell about the Great Coyote and how he, along with First Man and First Woman and the Holy People, created the stars by filling a blanket with rock mica and carefully placed them in the sky. But Great Coyote became impatient; he grabbed the blanket First Woman had so beautifully woven throwing all the mica into the sky where they became the stars of the night. Under the pictures, she began to write down the story just as her grandmother had told her many times. She missed her Grandmother and her stories so much.

She lost herself in what she was doing, forgetting the game and the time. Looking up she saw everyone had left and it had started to get dark. The streetlights were coming on. Her mother would be worried about her daughter being kidnapped or hurt and her father; Catalina didn't want to think about the anger he would show. She gathered her things and jumped down the balcony steps. As she turned the corner of the bleachers, she ran squarely into something soft and yielding and heard a muffled groan as she fell on top of the object. To her horror she saw she'd knocked a woman down in the dirt.

"Lo siento señora. I didn't mean to knock you down," she said horrified as she scrambled to her feet.

The woman smiled and got to her feet, dusting off her jeans clad backside as she rose. "No problema. Estoy bien chica. Y tu?" The woman assured her it wasn't a problem and that she was ok and wanted to know if she was also ok.

"Si, bien."

"Como te llamas joven?" What do they call you?

"Catalina."

"Catalina... Montez?" the woman asked. The girl nodded dumbly. How did she know who she was?"

"Ed!" the woman called out. "I've got her. She's fine."

Who was this Ed who wanted to know if she was fine?

"C'mon Catalina. It's time for you to get home. Sus padres están preocupados por ti."

Her parents were worried. How much time had she spent here at the park?

She followed the woman and turning another corner, she realized who wanted to know if she was fine. Still wearing his now sweaty and dirty Cesar Chavez t shirt, it was her hero, _el Jefe_.

"Catalina, your folks are pretty worried about you. You ok?" He asked.

"I, I was writing _Jefe_. I forgot the time. And you brought books today. And I didn't get one. My father will be angry with me and I'm going to be punished because I'm late." Her sentences tumbled one over the next.

Ed briefly frowned. His officers in Lincoln Park had dealt with people like her father before. Montez was like so many in the neighborhood, struggling to make a living, barely making ends meet and more than once drowning his sorrows in the local bar; getting into a fight with the first man that disagreed with him; getting arrested for drunk and disorderly and spending a night in the city jail. He looked at the girl and smiled.

"Well Catalina, would you like a ride home? We'll talk to your dad. I'm sure he won't ground you forever. Your mother must be terribly worried and I know you missed dinner. I'll call them and let them know you're ok. We'll stop and get something to eat, then we'll get you home. Sound good?"

She nodded. Wait until the other kids heard about this. Dinner with the Chief. Who was this woman? Another policía? A friend?

Ed Brown anticipated the question. "Catalina Montez, this is my wife, Fran."

Catalina felt her cheeks flush. She'd knocked down the Chief's wife.

Fran smiled at her. "El Jefe no sabe lo que paso'. Es nuestro secreto."

Catalina breathed a sigh of relief. The Chief didn't and wouldn't know.

Jerry Abbey had taken the Chief's car back to the station and the only vehicle in the lot was a Ford F-150 truck. Fran tossed her keys to her husband. "You drive Ed. I want to get to know Catalina better, but first I'll call home and let them know she's ok." Fran and Catalina got into the backseat of the truck's cab. Ed slid behind the wheel and started the truck.

Fran pulled her phone out of her pocket and asked for Catalina's number. There was a rapid fire conversation in Spanish. She heard Fran repeatedly say, most likely to her father, "She's fine. She's a child who lost track of the time is all. She doesn't need to be taught a lesson. She's learned one already. She feels badly about being late. We'll get her home as soon as she's eaten."

Catalina heard Fran release a long sigh after she disconnected the call. She knew her father had told her he was her father and would make sure this never happen again and most likely she would get the backside of his hand as well as get grounded. "How come you speak such good Spanish?"

"My mother was Mexican. We spoke it all the time in the house."

"Does the Chief speak Spanish?"

"Enough to get by sometimes." Ed broke in. "When I need an interpreter, I sometimes will ask her to do it, especially like tonight. It saves someone else coming out for just a little bit and I trust what she says."

"Are you a police officer too?"

"Not anymore. I work at the Art Museum. I fix paintings now."

"You're an artist?"

"I paint and I used to sell my work so I guess that makes me an artist."

The truck stopped. "Who's hungry?" The Chief asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Calm before the Storm**

Ed turned the truck into a Sonic Drive In. They were found all over Denver. Catalina had heard of them, but never stopped at one. She qualified for free breakfast and lunch at school. There was no money for luxuries like fast food for her family.

Dinner's on us Catalina." Ed said pleasantly. "Order whatever you usually get here or anything you'd like".

She pressed her face against the Ford's side window looking at the large colorful menu display. There were too many choices. She turned to Fran. "I, I've never been here before. I don't know what I want. There's too many choices and they all look so good. What do you eat?" she asked somewhat panicked.

"Well, if you order like _el Jefe_ here," she said pointing at her husband. "You could have a double cheeseburger, large fries, a large vanilla milkshake, and coffee tonight." Fran replied laughing. "Only because he played ball and your classmates gave him a real workout."

Catalina looked at Fran. La Señora Brown, as she thought of her, was slim and even though she wore jeans, a long sleeved t shirt, flannel shirt, and boots, looked very stylish. Catalina had never seen a more beautiful woman and she wondered what she would order at a drive in. "And you?"

"I would order a chicken sandwich, a salad, and ice tea. But you niña, are still growing. You should enjoy your dinner, especially because the Chief's buying."

Catalina finally ordered a hamburger combo with a salad and a chocolate milkshake. When their food came, Fran suggested they eat at one of the picnic tables. She ate with enjoyment as did the Brown's. Both Brown's asked questions about her family and school. Catalina answered freely.

"You don't play basketball, do you?" The Chief asked her. "I mean I've never seen you out on the court with us."

She was pleased. El Jefe did pay attention to those kids like her that sat in the bleachers. "No, I don't like the game."

"You were up there in the corner scribbling away. Are you a reporter for the school newspaper?"

"No. I was writing a story my mother's mother told me once."

"About what?" Fran asked.

"About the how Great Coyote made the stars come to the sky."

"May I see it?" Fran asked. Catalina went to the truck and retrieved the spiral notebook. Together Ed and Fran read the story. Fran pointing out details in the pictures she liked.

"What clan are you born to?"

The girl looked surprised but answered. "I am born to To'aheedliinii, Water Flow Together Clan. My father is Nakaii, Mexican Clan."

"That's good to know." Fran replied.

"How did you know I'm Navajo?"

"I've been working on a photography exhibit of the Navajo Code Talkers for the museum." She replied. "I've been working on a lot of pictures of the Dinii, who we call the Navajo and the Dinetah, the homeland. I see a resemblance . Would you like to see the exhibit sometime? Get a behind the scenes tour?"

"Please," Catalina said, her mouth stuffed with hamburger. She swallowed, following it with some milkshake."But I thought you just fixed paintings?"

"No, that's my main job, but I help with displays and there were photographs needing to be fixed, so I've been doing that. In my part of the museum, we all help each other out when it's needed."

They talked more about different things and Catalina took time to observe the Brown's. Fran was a few years younger than the Chief, but not only did they appear happily married, they to have lots in common and best of all they were friends and they were in love. She could tell by the way they looked and talked and touched. That wasn't always the case at her house and she knew the reasons why. They made her sad.

Fran took a card out of a small case. She quickly wrote a number on the back of it. "That's my cell number. Have your mother call me when you'd like to come see the display and I'll make arrangements for you to spend a day and see how we do this."

She looked at the front of the card. In engraved letters, it read _DENVER MUSEUM OF ART_ and in smaller letters: _Dr. Maria Francesca Belding Brown, M.F.A., Ph.D; Director of Conservancy Programs_ followed by her office address and phone number. Never had Catalina seen anything so elegant.

"You're a doctor," she breathed.

"Not a medical doctor, but I worked very hard to get the degree."

"I'll say you did". Ed replied the pride showing in his voice. "I carried her canvases home from school, every day."

"I couldn't have done it without you big guy," she said playfully." But, please call me Fran, ok. All my friends do."

Catalina was soaring, she and the wife of the Chief of Police. They were friends.

"Ok…Fran" she giggled. Shoving the card back in her pocket she got into the truck when they said it was time to go. On the way to her house, she talked endlessly about wanting to be a writer of children's stories and to illustrate them. She felt a kindred nature with her new friend. The truck pulled up in front of her house. Still enveloped in the warmth of the Brown's caring, Catalina got out on her side, leaving her notebook in the backseat.

Fran and Ed walked behind her, Fran slipping her arm through her husband's. Catalina hearing them speak another language.

"He said that to you?"

"Look he's just worried about his girl. She was lost. The Chief of Police is bringing her home. Pass auf!" Just be careful."

"You too."Hopefully I can get him to change his mind." Ed replied.

"I'm counting on you Big Guy to do just that". Fran said switching back to English, letting go of his arm.

The front door of the Montez house was flung open and the worried form of Mrs. Montez appeared, smothering her daughter in her embrace and pulling her inside. The Brown's followed into the small but immaculate house.

"Mrs. Montez, I'm Chief Brown, Denver Police. This is my wife, Maria Francesca. Your daughter's fine, I got the radio call and told my aide I could probably find Catalina without much help. She just was up in the bleachers writing. She's had dinner and got no homework. She just lost track of time is all. So we'll be taking off now."

Catalina caught the cue and scurried back to her bedroom. Peeking out the crack she left in the door to see and hear what was going on. Ed could see her face become worried, fearful. He pressed the issue.

"Where's Catalina's father, ma'am?"

"I'm right here. What's this you tellin me about how I need to deal with my kid Anglo"? He came out of the hall that Catalina had just disappeared down. Montez's voice was loud, angry and slightly slurred.

"Eso es Jefe de Policía Denver Anglo a usted." Ed said.

"Tellin' me I can't discipline my kid for disobeyn me?"

"She knows she did wrong and she feels bad about it. Ground her, make her do extra stuff around the house, but you don't have to show her your hand's backside. You do and I'll come back.

"You and your puta get outta my house."

Fran saw Ed's body tighten and his eyes squint.

"What did you call my wife?" He said calmly.

"You know what I called her, Mr. Police Chief."

"That's what I thought. Apologize now to her." Ed felt his right hand roll up into a fist. Unconsciously he squared himself.

Pete Montez took a step forward as if to strike Ed, and then caught his wife's eye.

"¿Quieres ir a la cárcel?" She shouted at him. You want to go to jail? "We can't afford your bail if you go." She turned to Ed, forcing her voice to be calmer. "Catalina will be grounded all next week as well as receive extra chores Jefe. It was kind of you and your wife to find Catalina and give her dinner. Please understand it is difficult for us now. Pete is a hardworking man, a good father and husband."

"I'm sorry for the trouble I caused." He said to Ed with a hangdog beaten look. "Look, I shoulda been the one to find her, bring her home. That's a father's job."

Ed looked at the man. Poverty and bad choices had worn him down.

Pete Montez turned to face Fran. "There was no call to what I said to you lady. No call at all. I'm sorry."

Fran nodded, "Gracias"

He went over to a very used couch and sat down putting his hands in his face. Ed took a card out of his pocket, scribbling a note on the back."Call me at this number tomorrow. I've got a friend in construction. He's looking for guys willing to put in a ten hour day. I'll put in a word for you if you're interested."

Montez took the card. "Kinda stunned you'd do that for a guy like me."

"Second chances get earned." Ed said. "Good night Miz Montez, Pete. Adios Cat."

Ed and Fran walked down the steps. "So I can let out that breath now that I took when I thought you were going to hit him to uphold my honor." She said.

"Yeah, it's ok, but I wanted to." Ed put his arm around Fran and thought about his luck in marrying her. He realized that there would be more situations like this. Fran could and would take care of her own problems, but she let him solve this one, simply by saying nothing. She'd done that before when they were partners back in San Francisco. It was something she learned the hard way to do, "Let's go home honey. I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"And you need a shower before you put any moves on me mister chief of police. You stink!"

The ranch was quiet when they got home. Patrice had made sure the animals were secure and the light in his mother's bedroom was out. Quietly they entered the house. Ed took his shower and afterwards found his wife already nearly asleep. Getting into bed, he turned and draped his arm over Fran's side. She snuggled closer to him.

"G'night" she mumbled.

"Love you."

She rolled over for a kiss. Then they resettled themselves.

"Thanks for having my back tonight." He said.

"Always will." Fran replied.

Ed fell asleep in Fran's arms. It was a good sleep, free of troublesome dreams until the phone rang. Then the nightmare began.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gone Girl Gone**

"Why isn't someone answering the damn phone? What do I have an office staff for? Jerry! Mattie! Someone pick up the phone!"

Ed Brown woke with a jerk. He'd been dreaming, but the phone was ringing. He grabbed it just before it went to message. "Brown".

"Ed, it's Jason Morales, Denver Fire. Sorry I woke you, but I need you. I've already called Arson, Homicide, the Medical Examiner, and Crime Scene in on this, but I wanted you to know there's been a bad fire and I've got a couple of bodies. Address is 1728 Calle. Cross street is Bunker. Neighbors said they heard gunfire before the house went up in flames."

Damnit. He hated these early morning calls, especially from the new fire chief. It only meant something really awful had happened. Quietly getting up, he grabbed his clothes and slipped into the bathroom to dress, trying not to wake Fran. Finished, he went out to the kitchen to make a quick cup of coffee and found the lights on and himself greeted with a kiss and a steaming mug of coffee. His wife still dressed in the San Francisco 49ers jersey she'd gone to bed in earlier that night. She was making a carafe of coffee in the drip coffee maker.

"I used to get those calls too, remember? I heard the first ring. They never call artists this early in the morning. So I knew it was for you."

Ed nodded as he drank.

"What's happened?" Fran asked.

"Fire, possibly arson, with two bodies; the neighbors said there were gunshots before the fire. It's not going to be pretty."

"They never are." Fran found a thermos in the cupboard and poured the pot into it. "Did you call Jerry yet?"

"I'll call him on my way in. I'll take the truck."

"Want company?"

"I would, but not this time. Can we have lunch later today?"

"Yes, that would be good. My schedule is light; just working on the exhibit. I can meet you somewhere downtown." Fran replied.

Ed kissed her. "I'll call you later, ok?"

"I love you."

"Me too."

"Stay away from the balconies, will you?" Fran laughed, but her face was serious. It was her way of asking him to be safe. She said it every time he went out on a call. It was nice to be reminded to take care.

"Definitely."

"I'll be up. Someone's got to help Patrice with the critters now that you're taking off early. Call me when you can."

Ed took the thermos and Fran soon heard the sound of the truck leaving.

"It's a quarter to three. There's no one in the joint. So set 'em up Joe. One for my baby and one for the road" she sang as she made another pot of coffee. Patrice would in the kitchen at 4:30 to start his day. Not too long from now. It was going to be a long day, she thought.

Ed made good time to the scene. As he pulled up, he realized that the house that was now danger of collapse was the house Catalina Montez lived in. His stomach sank. How could he tell Fran that the young girl they had shared dinner with last night was now dead. He closed his eyes, said a prayer and got out of the truck, where he was met by Fire Chief Morales and his sergeant, Jerry Abbey. "What do you know?" Ed asked.

"Two bodies; ME is pretty sure they're adults and thinks that they were shot in the living room. Neighbors said there's a kid. Don't have him accounted for yet."

"Her. The kid is a girl. Her name is Catalina." Ed corrected the Fire Chief.

"You want to fill me in on how you know this fact, Ed." Morales asked.

"Jerry and I were playing ball at Cesar Chavez yesterday. Catalina lost track of the time. Fran, my wife, found her in the bleachers. We called the parents, got her some dinner and took her home."

"Neighbors said the dad got into an argument with someone after the kid came home. You know anything about it?"

"He was going to hit the kid and he insulted my wife. He yelled, I didn't. I gave him my card and offered to help find him a job. He was going to call me today about some construction work I knew about. If you can find the card, you might see some of the note I scribbled on it."

"Internal Affairs Division is going to be called in, you know that, boss," Jerry said quietly.

"Yeah, well Sgt. Abbey, we'll just take it as it comes. Go find the ME and see what he knows."

Jerry found the medical examiner and brought him over to the truck.

"What do I know right now Chief Brown?" Dr. Brinton said. "Two adults shot at close range, sex, race, and age unknown. That's what I think killed them. It was a pretty hot fire. I think I'll probably find powder residue on the bodies. I'll know more after the autopsy."

"How long before you'll have an idea?" Ed asked.

"Call me this afternoon. Late."

"No third body? No child? "

"No, just the adults. Why?"

"We've just added a missing person case to arson and homicide." Ed said. He looked around him locating his sergeant. "Jerry, we need to find Catalina and fast. She may be the only one who knows what happened. I'll be in the office as soon as I can. He took his service revolver out of his holster, butt end first, using his fingertips and put it in a plastic bag he kept in the truck for that purpose. He did the same with his throwdown. "Get these to the lab for a firing test NOW. Tech's should know immediately they haven't been fired, but have them run the damn test. I'd rather clear my guns_ before_ I get back to the office. Understood. Do what you have to do to run a lab test now, not later. Pick them up at their house, dress them for work, buy them coffee, breakfast, or donuts, sweep their office for them _after_ they get the test done. Take them out dancing tonight if you have to. Get this done before 8am. And I want you there Sergeant, the entire test. My guns **_do not_** leave your sight at any time."

"On it boss". Jerry took the bags, got in his car and left.

"McGill!" Ed shouted. "McGill. Over here now".

McGill was thin and balding and ran the Crime Scene Unit for the Denver Police like a Drill Sergeant. Ed knew that if anyone could find something, Mc Gill and his team could.

"Whatcha need Ed?"

Brown pulled out one of his cards and one of Fran's. Two things Harry. First, last night we were both here. Fran gave one of her cards to Catalina Montez and I gave mine to her father. I'm hoping we can find a fragment of one, the other, or both, I need to know if there's any trace of an eleven year old having been here during the fire or with luck, escaping.

"Needle in a haystack is what we do best Boss."

"I know that Harry. Thanks"

McGill trotted off barking orders to his team. They were eager to find any clue that would help find Catalina.

"Thompson." He brayed "Get the uniforms knocking on the doors. Anything strange or unusual happening between 9 pm and the time of hearing the gunshots, I want to know pronto."

"You heard the boss. Baker, Manny, Green, Izzo, get going on the doors. No one leaves this neighborhood until we clear it."

Ed thought of how he would tell Fran. She would be heartbroken.

"We got a photo of the girl Sarge? That would help." One of the uniforms asked.

Then he knew he needed her help. He dialed home. "Morning Ma. Yeah, Fran told you, huh? It's bad. She still there? Thanks".

He looked up at the sky breaking blue, waiting for his wife to pick up the phone. Most likely she was in the barn grooming the horses. "Hey Fran, it's me," he sighed. "Yes, and it's even worse, it's Catalina's house."

He heard the sharp intake of air from the other end. Ed plunged on. "How soon can you get over here? The uniforms are doing the door to door. The Crime Scene van has a copier. I need a sketch of Cat. You're the only one who could do it and the sketch artist would take forever and we'd have to…."

"What do you mean be quiet and give you the address?" He smiled."1728 Calle. Cross street Bunker. I love you too." Disconnecting he felt the spark of pleasure that he and Fran were working on a case again. She just didn't know it.

Twenty minutes later he heard the familiar sound of Fran's Jeep. "How is it you got here so fast?" he asked.

Fran Brown reached up by the visor and he saw the flash of the light bar and the whoop of a siren. She smiled. "You might need to get somewhere fast in this car sometime and I wouldn't want you to get a ticket."

"Impersonating an officer, Dr. Brown?"

"No impersonation about it at all . I was one once. But I'll take it up with the Chief tonight. Beg for leniency."

They walked over to the crime scene van. "What do you need to get this done?" he asked her.

"How many uniforms do you have knocking?"

"About fifteen or twenty".

She sat on the edge of the van. "I've got one sketch already." Looking into the van she said "Make twenty five copies of this and get it out to the uniforms, will you?" She handed over the sketch to a disembodied voice who took the sketch with a "Yes, ma'am".

Fran took out her sketch book and began penciling. "If she cuts her hair she could look like this, she finished it giving it again to the disembodied voice. The sound of the copier was heard in the background. She finished one last sketch. It was how he remembered Cat last night at the drive in.

"I'm betting she's wearing last night's clothes."

"Probably right." His wife said as she began a third sketch. "I called in to the museum, left a message that I'd been asked to assist with the police department today".

"Henrietta will like that one" Ed smiled. Henrietta was Fran's secretary and loved hearing police gossip.

"Ed, since I went ahead and assigned me to you for the day, I think I'll head towards the school after it opens. She might be around there. She knows me and hopefully trusts me. It saves taking a uniform from this search."

Brown agreed with his wife's logic. She handed over the third sketch as she kissed him goodbye.

"Stay away from the balconies, will you?" He said softly.

"Definitely. And I'm using the Police Department parking permit too." She roared off in the Jeep.

Ed shook his head. If anyone could find Catalina Montez, he was betting it would be Fran. She loved kids and had a special affinity for street kids. She'd been one herself after her mother had died. Family was exceptionally important to Fran and he knew that she felt that Catalina felt the same. That's why they so quickly bonded. They both felt very close to their parents. He took a breath, let it out and told McGill he was headed for the office. He'd been away long enough and now he got to deal with the bureaucrats. It was going to be a long, long day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fahrenheit 451**

After the Browns had left, Catalina went to her bedroom in the back of the house, thinking on what had just happened. Chief Brown had been right, the feared for argument with her dad hadn't materialized. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet, seemingly overwhelmed by Ed's offer of a job.

Catalina had neither homework nor a new book to read and decided to complete her story from this afternoon so she could show it to her teacher in the morning. She opened her backpack and reached in for the spiral. It wasn't there. Frantically she dumped the backpack's contents on her bed. It was gone, but where? Then she remembered. She had shown the Browns' her pictures at the drive in. She must have left it in their truck. How would she get it back? Cat jammed her fingers in her jeans' pocket in frustration, touching something hard. It was the card she'd been given by la señora Brown. Fran, she reminded herself with a giggle. They were friends now. The card was her talisman. Maybe the school secretary would let her call her on Monday. She could visit the museum, see the exhibit, get her notebook back.

Hearing the sounds of another argument between her parents start to swirl outside her room, she decided to not get ready for bed but listen instead. Sometimes her mother came in after them, her face red and teary. Sometimes it was worse when her father was truly angry or drunk, she and her mother would leave to spend the night with friends. Grabbing some clean clothes and her books, Catalina dumped them into her bag, then she sat on the bed, hugging bony knees drawn up almost to her chest, listening to her parents argue in Spanglish, a combination of Spanish and English that almost everyone in her neighborhood spoke.

"The Chief que podía ayudar. He said he could help you. Please querido, tell him what happened. Why we left California. We wouldn't always have to look over our shoulders. You could could see her grandparents, my parents, our family again. We could have a life.

Catalina could hear the urgency in her mother's pleading. She hated hearing the sadness in her voice when she talked about her family in San Francisco.

"No es posible. Nunca, never. Gabby, your dad, he don't unnerstand what happened. He can't help me. Not when Pepe Alvarado said I stole from him. Eddie Rogers is an important man, but he's got nothing on Pepe."

"Mi amado, Catalina and I never would have stayed with you if I'd thought you were a ladron, a thief. But it's been five years. It's time to reclaim your name and honor and settle this. let Chief Brown help you."

Catalina heard her father's voice trail off as there was a booming knock on the door. "Montez! Open the frickin door or I'll kick it in."

"Gabby, get the kid and get the hell outta here, now!" Pete Montez shouted.

"Pete, why? What is it?"

The argument continued with a new voice added to her parents as Catalina heard the front door splinter open.

"Our employer has not been happy." The new voice said.

"I don't have it. Never did. I don't know who took that money."

Catalina was frozen in her bed as she heard a scream from her mother. Cautiously she eased herself to the door and cracked it open slightly. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her head bowed. Her father stood in the center of the room. A stranger faced him holding a gun. Catalina looked at him, memorizing his features. He didn't see her.

"That was the payment for the Lorca Valdez Syndicate shipment. Four point eight million. Mr. Alvarado would like it back.

"If I had that you think I might be livin' a little better than here?" Montez replied. "I don't blame him but no lo tengo. I don't effin have it."

"Maybe your wife can help you remember." The man pulled her mother up off the battered sofa. Catalina saw her father stiffen.

"Get your hands off my wife."

There was the sound of a struggle. Furniture breaking and glass shattering. A deafening roar filled the house and then all was quiet. She heard her father scream "Nooo."

There was more fighting noise and a second blast followed. She smelled gasoline. By the time the fireball consumed the house, Catalina was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Office Space**

Paul Fisette stormed into the Police Chief's office, unannounced, ignoring the niceties of being granted entrance by Ed's secretary. He paused for a moment to stare at Ed, shaking his head, his face red with anger, index finger extended at him, before plopping heavily into one of the blue upholstered visitor's chairs.

"What the hell happened last night?" He demanded, his finger still pointing at Ed's chest.

"Morning Paul," Ed said pleasantly. He hit his intercom button. "Mattie, coupla things; find out where my sergeant is; ask Mac to cover at the eleven o'clock staff meeting and would you please bring in some coffee for the Commissioner and me? Thank you"

"It's all over the radio" the City Commissioner sputtered.

"What is?"

"You being involved in that firebombing this morning."

Ed wondered who had said what to the media. If it was on air, chances were good he'd be contacted by the TV stations soon.

Mattie Johnson entered the office, putting two steaming mugs down on the desk. "Anything else sir?"

"Yes Mattie, I've changed my mind, postpone the staff meeting until this afternoon, say three pm. Have Mac prepare a press release about last night and invite the beat reporters in for a conversation as soon as possible. Jerry's probably still at the lab; but text him and ask if he's got any results from the firing tests or the GSR test. And schedule a press conference for 4:30 this afternoon. Invite everyone, including the bloggers."

"On it Chief," the secretary responded as she went out the door, closing it behind her.

Ed took a sip of coffee. "Ok, here's what happened." He recounted for the Commissioner the events of the last twelve hours. "The radio stations have it fouled up", he concluded. "They'll be invited to the meeting and we'll get it straightened out."

Fisette drank coffee and calmed down somewhat. "The last thing we need Ed is to have even the slightest suspicion of another dirty cop here."

Ed interrupted him. "Look, I don't see what's dirty about finding a lost kid, getting her something to eat and taking her home to her parents. We don't know what happened last night yet. And if you're concerned about the shakedown investigation, it's going well. It's just about wrapped up. Mac's almost found the connection between cops beating up customers at the pot shops and taking kickbacks from the shop owners... Most of the the owners he's talked to want the slightest hint of illegality around them. They're making too much money and don't want to be shut down. Handing out bribes to any of our folks would be a fast way to lock their doors forever, as well as bring the Feds down on them. As for me, the tests should show". Ed paused at the knock on his door.

"Enter".

"Got those results for you Chief. Morning Commissioner." Jerry Abbey dropped a manila file on his boss' now cluttered desk. He stepped back waiting. Ed read the file quickly; a smile crossing his face, then passed it across to Fisette.

"Anything else to report?"

Abbey grinned. "I owe a lab tech breakfast for rousting 'em out of bed so early." He left the room briefly, returning with the bag Ed had given him earlier. "I thought you might want these back too. Taking the bag from him, he slid his Glock back in his shoulder holster and bent over to put his throwdown back in the ankle holster. Sitting back upright Ed opened his wallet, took out two twenties handing them to his sergeant. "It's my treat Jerry. Take her over to DJ's on 9th. If you want to make an impression."

Abbey smiled and pocketed the bills. "How'd you know the tech was a female, boss?"

"Seriously Jerry? You think I don't know who you woke up? A chance for you to go out with Brenna Chang on my dime? Just don't make it a lingering brunch. There's too much to do today."

"Think I'll see about a late dinner tonight instead."

"You're catching on fast, Sgt. Abbey." Ed handed him a sheet of paper. "Since you aren't going to breakfast, here are a few things I need you to follow up on." He waggled his fingers at his assistant.

Abbey looked at the list covering both sides of the paper. "I should have known you'd have 'just a few things' for me Boss. Let me grab something from the commissary and I'll start working on this." Reluctantly he handed Ed back the twenties.

Ed nodded as Jerry stood there for a moment.

"Today Sergeant…."

"uhh right." He moved to leave.

"And Jerry,…. nice work."

Jerry Abbey smiled as he left the office. It was good having his boss' trust.

"Want me to be there today? At the press conference that is?" Fisette asked.

"No, it won't be necessary" Ed replied, knowing that he would in fact be there.

"Think maybe I'll drop by, just in case. Someone from City Hall should be there. They might want the Commissioners' response to all this."

Ed groaned inwardly. "No" he mused silently, "you want to make sure you get splashed on the front page of the _Post, _preferably with a picture as large as your ego_._" The Commissioner was insufferable, a true publicity hound. The building gossip said he wanted to be mayor someday. It would do no good to protest either. Fran told him he needed to learn to deal better with the man or he'd be on blood pressure medication in no time.

The next words out of Fisette's mouth stunned him.

"You got your wife out of retirement, I hear."

Ed could feel himself becoming more than a little angry at Fisette's now gloating tone.

"I heard she was on the scene this morning." He continued.

The man was amazing. Ed paused and decided to go for the simple truth. "I called her. Fran was with me last night and met Catalina. I needed some sketches of the girl. She could do them faster than our artist could so she made some drawings for the uniforms. That's all."

"So why was it she went over to the kid's school?"

How'd he learn that tidbit? Ed wondered.

"Principal called me this morning. Dianne's a neighbor. Told me a woman, name of Brown, was looking for the kid and asking questions on your behalf. Had no authority, but said Dianne should call your office for verification."

Ed fumed. Instead of calling his office for confirmation, she'd called a 'neighbor', who just happened to be a city commissioner.

"I already told you. I'm not having my wife work as an investigator on this. Look, the kid has lost one or both of her parents. I sent Fran because she's someone Cat knows. If your parents had been murdered, wouldn't you like to see one person who cared about you and not just asking questions about what happened? I'm not giving her a badge and a gun for God's sake."

"And she understands the kid, why? Because she went through that herself?"

Ed had enough of the man and his officious oiliness. "Good for you, Fisette, you read her biography." He laid the sarcasm on heavily. "Seems you forgot to reread the part where it says she's retired from active duty."

The Commissioner opened his mouth to speak, looking like a fish.

"Leave my wife alone."

Paul Fisette hauled himself out of his chair. "Thanks for the coffee Chief. Have your secretary call mine when your Exec has the press conference set up, I'll be in the building all day."

Ed looked at Fisette's retreating backside. Damn the man.


	6. Chapter 6

**No Place Like Home**

It was almost nine when Ed was finally able to pull the truck into the driveway of the ranch. He was able to cadge a power nap on the couch in his office during the afternoon before the press conference, but otherwise he'd been on the go since getting the three am call. In the mudroom he hung his coat on a peg and pulled off his boots, his feet thanking him for releasing them from their prison. Entering the small bathroom he washed his hands and face. Looking in the mirror, he could see how exhausted he was.

"Ed, that you?" Sarah Brown called from the kitchen. "I saved you some dinner if you're hungry."

"Sure am ma". His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since lunch, hours ago. He couldn't even remember what he had eaten, probably something cellophane wrapped with a half-life rivaling Uranium from the commissary vending machine. A bowl of stew and fresh baked bread met him as he sat down at the table.

"Where's Fran?"

"In the shed, said she had some work to do, she's been in there since after supper."

"I can imagine why". His wife had tried to do something good and had doors slammed in her face for her efforts. He ate the bowl quickly. Sarah ladled another large bowl for him and handed him a glass of milk. "She saw you on television. We both did. You did fine, but that Commissioner, what's his name?"

"Fisette".

"Mercy, he does seem to feel he's really important."

Ed laughed. "He does Ma, he really does." Fisette had taken over the press conference and displayed a glaring lack of tack and stupidity. He hadn't had his facts lined up and Ed and John had spent most of their time correcting the commissioner's comments. After the meeting, Ed took a couple of reporters aside and gave them the statement MacAllister had prepared. At least the _Post_ and _Rocky Mountain Journal _would have the correct version of the story.

Finishing, he took his bowl, spoon and glass to the sink and rinsed them out. Kissing his mother, he walked through the house, stopping in the bedroom to put on a pair of slippers and exchange his sweaty dress shirt and tie for a tee and a flannel shirt. He opened the French doors of the room, walked out on the patio and turned to the south where Fran's workroom was.

Though it was called the "shed", it was anything but with help from Mark, Mac, Jerry, and under the Chief's supervision, he built it for her as a wedding present. It was large with lots of storage space and full of natural light with a good view of the fishing pond and the foothills. He found her outside sitting on the Adirondack style love seat he'd made, looking out on the mountains and the stars, drinking the strong Viennese blend coffee she favored.

"Hey". He bent down and kissed her. "You ok?"

"I'm fine." She returned his kiss. "Want to see what I've been working on?" She got up taking his hand and led him inside. "It's something I've been working on at the museum, but I decided to bring my work home for a change. Considering the morning, it was a pleasure to work on this tonight." On an easel was a half-finished painting of a mountain scene. A snapshot of the scene was attached to the top right corner of the canvas. "It's a private commission. A local collector wanted me to paint their back yard in the style of William Metcalf."

"I've got no idea who William Metcalf is, but it's beautiful. Does know your boss know you're working on your own stuff during their time?"

"Yes, indeed Dr. Duncan does Chief Brown." She laughed "It's lunchtime therapy only; so it's on my dime and the boss saw it the other day and asked if I would contribute it to the local artists' exhibit next spring."

"And of course you told him you would."

"Natürlich, with the owner's permission of course."

Ed went over to the coffee pot and poured himself half a cup. "Sorry you had doors slammed in your face today." He said after sipping.

"It's ok Ed. I didn't have any authority to ask questions. The principal did the right thing in refusing me. I'm not a cop anymore. So I checked out a few of the shelters in the area instead. No one's seen Catalina. I let Jerry know where I checked." She drank more coffee. "I did get a tour of the school and when I asked to see the art room. Mrs. Retter, the principal, became very nervous and pointed at a closet. That's where they stored the art supplies. In a closet. For the entire school. A school of three hundred students with no art room, not enough supplies and no teacher."

Ed smiled; he knew what she was leading up to.

"So I talked with George and Martine Salazar, she's the museum's education specialist, this afternoon. Ed, the museum has to help these kids somehow. The city prides itself on being an art community, but if we're not training the next generation, there's not going to be an art community in Denver. And.." the words spilled out of her like a torrent of water.

"We might also might keep more kids out of trouble? Out of Juvie?" Her husband finished for her. "The police department might be willing to partner up with something like that. Our officers need to have more community policing opportunities and basketball only goes a little way. Not a bad idea honey."

Fran laughed. "I'm glad you like it, because I'll be at Chavez two afternoons a week starting next month, after George gives the green light for a pilot program. He meets with the Board of Directors next week. "

"That's great". He bent over and kissed her. "I need a favor." He handed her the spiral notebook Cat had left in the truck. "Let's see what we can find out about her and maybe where our girl might have gone."

"Not tonight Ed. You're exhausted and need to sleep. Tomorrow's Saturday, we can tackle it then." She opened workshop's small safe, slipped the book in it, closed the door and spun the cylinder. "Even Superman has to call it a night sometime."

Ed draped his arm around Fran and felt her lean into him as they left the shed. "Ok Lois Lane, we'll deal with it tomorrow."


End file.
